


and i could spend eternity more

by odyssxus



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani and Nicky | Nicolò di Genova are in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Slice of Life, Snippets, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Soft Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odyssxus/pseuds/odyssxus
Summary: “Like I said,” he teased, ushering Nicolò outside. “I wanted to celebrate. It’s been a century since we met.”Nicolò sat down on the grass, gazing out to the water.Yusuf wished they could stay there forever, in their small cabin by the sea. Nicolò looked so at peace here, so happy, and Yusuf knew he would do anything to keep him this way.“It’s August,” Nicolò said dryly, taking a sip of his wine.  “We met, if you want to call it that, in July.”Yusuf waved a hand. “Details, details.”~~~One hundred years after meeting for the first time, Yusuf and Nicolò have a conversation by the sea.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 52
Kudos: 214
Collections: Centennial Celebration Collection





	and i could spend eternity more

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff. Just... all the fluff. And More of me writing from Joe's POV, because I love him.

Yusuf walked back to the small house he and Nicolò shared, leading their donkey beside him. The animal grunted, nudging at Yusuf’s hip. 

He chucked, petting the animal's soft ears. “You ate everything already,” he said, aiming for a scolding tone but failing miserably. He spoiled the creature, as did Nicolò. They’d found the old donkey abandoned the year before, and while Yusuf had wanted to leave him (it had seemed happy and fed, despite being abandoned), Nicolò had looked at Yusuf as though he was committing some egregious act, eyes wide and devastated. 

They had kept the donkey. 

Nicolò had taken to calling him Dom, after a Priest he had known over a century ago now. Yusuf hadn’t asked whether or not the name was a compliment or not. At this point he didn’t want to know. 

Dom nudged him again, making a sound of displeasure. 

Yusuf shoved him back. “I do not have anything for you!” he laughed. “Greedy thing.” 

Dom just brayed, sounding horribly disappointed. 

Yusuf ignored him, trying to maintain some of his dignity, and adjusted the pack over his shoulder. He’d managed to find some figs at the market, and was looking forward to seeing Nicolò’s look of joy when he saw them. 

They had been travelling together for exactly a century now. They had, at the beginning of their new lives, both considered leaving. Yusuf had wanted to return to see his mother and sisters again. His father had long since passed, as had his wife, but his mother had been remarkably spry despite her advanced years. He missed his family dearly, especially his little nieces and nephews. 

Nicolò had been quieter, as he tended to be, but had mentioned returning to Genova. Yusuf had not asked after his family, knowing even then, when he still half hated the other man, that it was a sore point. 

Dom shook his large head, distracting Yusuf from his somewhat melancholy thoughts. 

Yusuf stroked his ears. “Come then,” he said. “We are nearly home. Back to Nicolò.” 

Dom picked up his pace, apparently understanding Yusuf’s words. Yusuf followed the animal easily, shaking his head to himself. He spoiled the donkey rotten, yet it still preferred Nicolò to him. 

Yusuf did not blame him. He was rather fond of Nicolò himself. 

When he arrived at the small house, Nicolò was still gone. Yusuf fought down the small twinge of disappointment and went into their home after taking care of Dom, giving him some fresh feed. 

It was a small home, little more than a single room, with a large fire for cooking and heat, a rickety old table, and a small area off to one side where they had set up two cots. 

It was clean, as was usual when Nicolò was the last one home. Apparently he would be punished for leaving detritus around the monastery, and it had become a habit. Yusuf himself was not untidy by any means, but he did have a tendency to leave things out and about. Nicolò automatically cleaned up after him, even though Yusuf had tried to tell him he did not need to. Nicolò would nod but continue cleaning, so Yusuf had stopped arguing. 

He got to work making a small meal for the two of them. He’d traded some of his art for a cut of beef and some wine, and they had plenty of vegetables. He was not as good of a cook as his mother had been, even after all these years, but he was good enough. 

“Smells delicious,” Nicolò said, stepping through the open door. 

Yusuf grinned at him, eyes roving over his form. Nicolò had taken to helping an older fisherman, and his pale skin was slightly tanned from days in the sun. His hair, normally a dark brown, was bleached with streaks of gold, making his bright eyes shine. He was still too thin for Yusuf’s liking, but they were both gaining some much needed muscle after spending so long travelling and fighting. They’d decided, together, that they deserved a break before continuing on to find the women in their dreams. 

They had eternity after all. 

“Thank you,” Yusuf said, throwing the other man a smile. 

Nicolò came further into the small kitchen, leaning over Yusuf’s shoulder to look at the simmering stew. Yusuf fought the urge to lean into him. 

“When did you have time to get meat?” Nicolò asked, sounding genuinely perplexed. 

Yusuf chuckled. Meat was hard to come by, at times. They did not tend to have much in terms of extra funds, and the fisherman Nicolò aided usually allowed him to take home fish so they had no need to spend anything extra on meat. They were both incredibly grateful, but Yusuf wanted a bit more tonight. 

“We deserve to celebrate,” Yusuf said with a grin, setting the lid on the worn pot. 

Nicolò walked over to his cot, stripping off his damp tunic. Yusuf watched him without a lick of shame, heart warm when he saw how healthy the other man looked. This break had done them both good. 

“Celebrate what?” the other man asked, clean tunic on. It was too large on him, even with his surprisingly broad shoulders, and Yusuf eyed where it was slipping down with interest. 

He shook himself, reaching for the wine. 

Nicolò gave him an incredulous look, green eyes wide. “Wine as well?” 

Yusuf poured them both a glass with a flourish. “Like I said,” he teased, ushering Nicolò outside. “I wanted to celebrate. It’s been a century since we met.” 

Nicolò sat down on the grass, gazing out to the water. 

Yusuf wished they could stay there forever, in their small cabin by the sea. Nicolò looked so at peace here, so happy, and Yusuf knew he would do anything to keep him this way. He wanted to find the women, yes, but neither he nor Nicolò had any interest in fighting. Not anymore. 

“It’s August,” Nicolò said dryly, taking a sip of his wine. “We met, if you want to call it that, in July.” 

Yusuf waved a hand. “Details, details,” he said lightly, though his heart twisted at the reminder. He and Nicolò had both moved past their violent meeting, and their difficult path to becoming travel companions and then the dearest of friends, but looking back still stung, at times. 

Nicolò gave him a look, as Yusuf had known he would. The other man was a stickler for details. Yusuf was with certain things, but not so much with dates. And he’d cared even less when they’d realised that, along with not being able to die, they likewise did not seem to be aging. 

Yusuf laughed, bumping his shoulder into Nicolò’s. “Well, we were travelling in July,” he said. “We aren’t now.” 

Nicolò gave him a small smile, before he put his wine down. He leaned forwards, crossing his arms over his bent knees, gaze far away. Above them a gull cried out. 

“It doesn't seem that long, does it?” he mused quietly. “Yet at the same time, I cannot fathom not knowing you.” 

Yusuf took a sip of his own wine, savouring the taste, before looking back over to Nicolò. He took in the wonderful angles of his face, the light stubble on his cheeks and jaw, and the fall of his hair. It was getting long now, brushing against his shoulders. Yusuf desperately wanted to run his fingers through it and see if it was as soft as it looked. 

“I feel the same,” Yusuf said in reply, still watching Nicolò rather than the scenery, his heart full. “I cannot fathom not knowing you, Nicolò.” 

Nicolò finally looked away from the sea, eyes soft. He didn’t say anything, just leaned closer into Yusuf’s side. Yusuf swallowed down tears at the feeling, draping an arm over the other man’s shoulders. 

Nearly a century ago now, back when they’d first begun to travel without wanting to kill each other, Yusuf had noticed that the other man seemed to shy away from touch, and retreated into himself whenever Yusuf came near. Yusuf had, at first, assumed it was because of how often they had killed one another. But when the behaviour had continued Yusuf had known it ran deeper. 

He had talked at length about his own life. About his parents and sisters, about the wife he had loved dearly and had died of a fever before they’d had children. He talked about his friends, his cousins, the people he had met as a merchant, and more. 

And, slowly but surely, Nicolò had confided more about his own past. About a mother who’d died when he had been young, and an unkind father. About joining the Church when he had been little more than a child. He hadn’t told Yusuf many details, but Yusuf was a smart man, and was beginning to know Nicolò well. He was more than able to read between the lines. Able to realise that Nicolò hadn’t had much positive touch in his life. 

That time was long gone now, thankfully, but Yusuf always felt a surge of affection when Nicolò initiated touch. Even after all these years. 

He knew full well that he loved the other man with the entirety of his soul. He would gladly follow Nicolò to the ends of the earth and back, and he likewise knew Nicolò would do the same for him. They had not spoken of this as of yet, but that was alright. They had tonight. 

He pulled Nicolò closer, basking in the other’s man’s solid warmth. He leaned his cheek against Nicolò’s soft hair, breathing deeply. Nicolò smelled of the sea, as he always did now. Yusuf loved it. 

“The stew is going to burn,” Nicolò murmured several minutes later, sounding half asleep. 

Yusuf half wanted to let it burn. He never wanted to let go of the man he loved. But he had worked hard on their meal, and was hungry. 

He stood slowly, ordering Nicolò to stay put with a mock glare. He was usually up before dawn to help the fisherman, whereas Yusuf was able to sleep later. He made no complaints, but Yusuf knew he was exhausted. He could serve their supper. 

He brought out two bowls, as well as some flatbread he’d made and the rest of the wine, somehow managing to balance the items without spilling all over himself. 

Nicolò laughed lightly, reaching out to relieve him of his burden. “Don’t drop our supper!” he teased, eyes twinkling. 

Yusuf grinned. “There’s more in the pot,” he said. “Though, the loss of wine would be a tragedy.” 

Nicolò just smiled sweetly at him, setting up the bowls on the soft grass. He settled against Yusuf’s side again, talking softly about his day at sea. Yusuf listened eagerly, taking in each and every emotion that crossed the other man’s face like a drowning man. 

“What about you?” Nicolò asked when there was a comfortable lull in conversation. “I’ve been talking about myself, and haven't asked you anything.” 

Yusuf pressed a kiss to his hair. “I love hearing you talk,” he admitted easily. For he did. Nicolò was naturally a quiet man, comfortable with his own company, and often uncomfortable in crowds. Yusuf was the opposite. He enjoyed talking, weaving stories and entertaining others, and equally enjoyed listening to them talk. But he would happily spend the rest of his life listening to Nicolò and Nicolò alone. 

Nicolò shook his head, using his flatbread to mop the last of his stew. “You have odd notions,” he said, a hint of self depreciation in his tone. 

Yusuf brushed a loose strand of hair away from his sharp cheekbone. “I do not, not about this,” he said softly but firmly. He dropped his hand, pouring Nicolò the last of the wine. “About other things certainly, but not about this.” 

Nicolò watched him for a long moment, an unreadable look in his bright eyes. He put down his bowl. “Would you like to walk down to the sea?” 

Yusuf raised an eyebrow. “And leave the dishes?” he teased. 

Nicolò raised an eyebrow in return. “I think we can leave a mess, just the once. I want to watch the sunset.” 

Yusuf stood, reaching down to pull Nicolò up as well. 

They put their empty bowls inside, along with the now finished wine, before wandering to the beach, feeling light and free. Yusuf wrapped an arm around Nicolò’s shoulders when he shivered in the breeze, grinning widely when the other man wrapped an arm around his waist. 

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the surf. Yusuf let go of Nicolò then, watching indulgently as the slightly shorter man rolled up his loose trousers and walked several steps into the sea. 

Yusuf did not join him, choosing instead to watch the other man silhouetted by the slowly setting sun. He was beautiful. Nicolò walked several more steps into the sea, head tilted back, before he turned his gaze back to Yusuf, a soft look on his face. 

“Will you not join me?”

Yusuf snorted. “You know how I feel about having cold feet,” he said with a small laugh. 

Nicolò rolled his eyes fondly, before stepping back onto the rough sand. He sat gracefully, chin resting on his bent knees. He looked oddly small like this. 

“I’d love to be able to stay here,” Nicolò said softly. “Just the two of us.” 

Yusuf looked over at him, studying the fall of his hair and the wistful look in his eyes. “I would like that as well,” he whispered. Then; “Nicolò…” he trailed off, swallowing, before deciding not to beat around the bush. “Nicolò, I love you,” he said, open and honest. 

The other man looked over at him with wide eyes, but Yusuf kept talking. 

“I love you,” he repeated. “As I’ve never loved anyone before. More than I imagined it was possible to love someone.” He took a breath, reaching over to take one of Nicolò’s hands in his. He cradled it gently, and reached up with his other hand to cup the man’s cheek, brushing his thumb over one high cheekbone. He shrugged slightly, feeling free for the first time in what felt like years. He’d wanted to tell Nicolò on the actual 100th Anniversary of when they had met, but they had been travelling then, and completely exhausted. 

Nicolò remained silent for a long moment, before leaning his cheek into Yusuf’s palm. “I…” 

Yusuf shook his head. “I don’t need to hear it in return,” he insisted, though he desperately wanted to. “I just needed you to know.” 

Nicolò watched him with wide eyes, pink tongue darting out to lick his plush lips. Yusuf’s eyes darted down to watch, before he tore his eyes away to look at Nicolò’s face instead. The other’s man’s eyes were wide, cheeks flushed pink. 

“Yusuf…” he whispered, eyes drifting closed. 

Yusuf waited patiently, caressing the soft skin on Nicolò’s cheekbone. 

Nicolò finally opened his eyes, a barely there smile on his face. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, voice barely audible. 

Yusuf leaned forwards on instinct, pressing their lips together. He let go of Nicolò’s hand, and instead wrapped an arm around his slender waist, keeping the other on his cheek to deepen the kiss. He felt Nicolòs’s arms wrap around his shoulders in return, and carefully pushed the other man down to the sand, propping himself up on his elbows with Nicolò underneath him. 

Nicolò moved one hand from Yusuf’s shoulder’s to run through his curls, that same soft smile still on his face. 

“Well?” Yusuf asked, already knowing the answer. 

“I love you too, you foolish man,” Nicolò said with a small laugh. “I have for years.” 

Yusuf grinned. “And you did not say anything!” He chastised in mock anger. 

Nicolò pulled him down for another kiss. “You did not either,” he retorted when they broke apart. 

Yusuf rested his forehead against Nicolò’s, breathing the same air. “I did not,” he admitted. “Though I have loved you for decades now. I did not want to scare you away.” 

Nicolò nodded, eyes going distant. It had taken them both years to come to terms with their immortality, to truly let go of their old lives, but Nicolò had taken longer. 

“Thank you,” he said, eyes slipping closed. “For waiting.” 

“For you I would wait an eternity,” Yusuf breathed, the confession dripping like honey from his lips. 

Nicolò huffed a small laugh, but said nothing, seemingly content to be in Yusuf’s arms and hold Yusuf in return. 

Yusuf stayed still for another moment before shivering slightly in the breeze. Below him Nicolò did the same. The sun had now set, taking with it the warmth of the day.

“Come,” he said, standing in a smooth motion before helping Nicolò up as well. They helped each other brush the sand off their clothes and skin, before wandering back to their small cottage together, tangled in each other's arms. 

They cleaned the remnants of their supper efficiently, before Nicolò wordlessly moved to bring their cots closer together. Yusuf stoked the fire with a grin, stripping off his tunic and laying down. Nicolò puttered around for several more minutes, as he always did, before laying down as well. He settled on his side facing Yusuf, that small smile still on his face. 

“I love you,” Yusuf said again, grinning so widely it hurt. 

Nicolò’s smile faded into a look of deep contentment, and Yusuf pulled him closer, limbs tangled together. 

“It only took one hundred years for us to get to this point,” he joked. 

Nicolò snorted elegantly. “Over one hundred years,” he pointed out with a teasing smile. 

Yusuf pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and his lips. “You’re right, as always, you fussy man. Over one hundred years.” 

“We’ll have to mark today’s date,” Nicolò said, voice slurring as he drifted into sleep. “To celebrate.” 

Yusuf somehow pulled him closer. “Oh?” 

“To celebrate our next century.” 

Yusuf kissed him again. “And the one after that,” he said. “For eternity my love.” 

Nicolò smiled softly, before yawning. 

Yusuf chuckled. “Sleep,” he soothed. “We have the rest of our lives to love each other.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again for Popi for beta-ing this, and to Naemmi for giving this a sensitivity read even though she's literally only seen the movie once and thinks fandom is weird haha
> 
> Yes, Yusuf is drinking here. My own headcanon is that he (as well as Nicolò) are both more spiritual than religious, though ALSO that their pasts influence them, etc… I am very aware that many Muslims do not drink (though have known some that do throughout my life), and do actually have a longer fic planned that explores this in greater detail. And hey, we see Joe drinking in the movies. It’s not OOC, even if this fic is obviously set considerably earlier. This is just a little snippet of their lives. 
> 
> Also, I totally think they’d have gotten together before this lol, but was emotionally attached to this idea haha. 
> 
> **Thank you so much for reading, and please please please let me know what you think!**


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